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Tuesday, July 23, 2013

And we danced all night to the best song ever

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina
Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s! Daily! Horoscope! for TuesdayWeld’sChildHasFarrahFawcett’sFace(Didn’tSeeTHATComing,Didja?),
July 23st ,2013. This would
be the second day in a row with no birthday wishes (yesterday’s wishes all being
belated); that almost never happens.
Wherever shall We obtain cake?

Of
course, yesterday WAS somebody’s birthday, Prince William’s penis having
escaped its Speedo™ at some point and proved itself to be fully functional, but
since said royal birthday personage does not even have a name yet, We are
hard-pressed to know how to felicitate.

Speaking
of bizarre things coming out of Great Britain and fully functional penises, We
chanced across boy-band One Direction’s latest video yesterday. It’s for a song called “Best Song Ever”, which, it would seem to Us, it would take really
large balls to call a song. And, while
We certainly imagine all five of these boys to have fully functional penises,
We don’t imagine those being accompanied by really large balls. We are going to embed this masterpiece here
for your viewing pleasure:

See
if you can figger out why We found it personally remarkable. (Please tell Us that We are not alone in the
fact that, while We know vague things about them (one of them is called
something like “Nyall”; one of their names starts with a Z), We know EXACTLY
which one is Harry Styles.)

Meanwhile,
to raise the cultural bar just a smidge, last night We had a dream that had
Stephen Sondheim in it. Because that’s
just how klassie and kultchuhed We are.
We were, oddly, living in Our old apartment. Upstairs, even more oddly, from The Sainted
Mother, and La Sondheim had dropped by for (oddliest of all) tea, and to discuss
his new musical. About which We can remember,
unfortunately, nothing.

And here is the HorrorScope:

It’s a British trifecta, folks…happy birthday, Daniel
Radcliffe! (Not only is it Daniel
Radcliffe’s birthday, but he is, very obligingly, turning twenty-four.)

— what can you do now that can save you time and energy
later? (Talk Harry Styles and Prince
Harry into jumping out of Daniel Radcliffe’s birthday cake?)

Your ability to plan and scheme is enhanced, (Well, that’s one word for it.)

so you may as well make the most of it! (Maybe, instead of “Eric’s!Daily!Horoscope!”,
We should call it “Best Horoscope Ever”?)

On certain days,
you’re just plain old lucky, (None of
those days, however, has a “Y” in its name.)

no matter who you’re with, what you do or whether it’s a
foolhardy move or not. (Andy Foolhardy
and The Foolhardy Boys…there’s a joke in there somewhere, but damned if We can
dig it out.)

This is your day to be lucky. (How fortuitous.)

Now, this doesn’t mean you should take off for a day of
skydiving or motorcycling at 120 mph down the freeway, but if you’ve been
thinking about getting to know someone new, and you’re feeling a bit on the
not-so-brave side about starting up a conversation, think about that good
fortune and use it. (That was a really
long sentence. Without much of a
point. Shut. Up. Kelli.)

You’ve got a fun idea, a startling vision, a nutty scheme
— and even if it’s still abstract, it’s ten million times more interesting than
anyone else’s boring stuff. (We are
going to take that to refer to Looking for Uranus: Starzina Starfish-Browne’s
Comeback Tour. Because why the
hell not?)

Share what you’ve got in mind. (Patience, Glasshoppah….snatch this pebble
from Our snatch…)

(Meanwhile, why We didn’t think of this sooner, We’ve got no idea, but
better laid than necking, as they say (and how right they are!). For
real live actual ass(tromlaogical) ho(roscopular) advice, please visit Our good
friend AstroGeek here: http://agskylab.blogspot.com/. Our Own epistular
musings are of use to you only insofar as making you feel better by comparison,
but he will give you actual pertinent advice for your very own lives, based on
upon the positions and transitations of all manner of planets, planetoids,
asteroids, Altoids™, hemorrhoids, and other heavenly flotsam, jetsam, and
Jetsons. Plus, he knows all about Uranus!)

Starzina
Starfish-Browne was born in the wagon of a traveling show…well, okay, not
really. She was actually born in Lowake, Texas, the daughter of a beautician
and either a garage mechanic or the town mailman. At sixteen, she escaped her
humble beginnings by running off with Doctor Browne’s Traveling Medicine Show
and, more to the point, Doctor Browne. Following the dissolution of this
unfortunate entanglement (Doctor Browne was a Virgo and Starzina is, of course,
an Aries), which produced a daughter, Starzina entered a contest in Soap Opera
Digest and won a scholarship to Oxford (yes, in ENGLAND), where she earned her
doctorate in the newly-created dual major of Astrology and Human Sexuality.
There is absolutely NO TRUTH to the rumor that Starzina’s second daughter has
Royal blood, despite tabloid photographs allegedly depicting her cavorting on
the Italian Riviera with Princes William and Harry, clad only in Prussian
helmets and armbands of questionable taste. Starzina currently resides with her
daughters in Philadelphia, the City That Loves You (On Your) Back, where she
enjoys Double Coupon Day at the local SuperCruise and “encouraging” the
coxswain of the Penn rowing team.